


You and I are not so different

by soren_berdichev



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 10:49:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14079252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soren_berdichev/pseuds/soren_berdichev
Summary: Lady Cousland found herself in serious negotiations with Prince Bhelen...and be lectured by him.





	You and I are not so different

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a Reddit Dragon Age Writing Prompt : "We are not so different, you and I..."

“It’s a pleasure talking to you, Ser Alistair. But I believe there are still some issues I want to discuss with Warden Commander. Alone.” The dwarven prince says in a businesslike tone. Alistair understands that’s as good as a dismissal. 

He doesn’t wish to leave the girl alone here. With that snake. HIS girl. But she gives an ever so slight nod. Alistair walks to her side, puts a hand on her face with unfeigned affection. She smiles to him encouragingly. He strokes her smooth, porcelain doll-like face gently once again, then turns around and leaves.

Bhelen waits until footsteps fade completely, and then a dozen seconds more, before he opens his mouth again. 

“Now the boy is out of the way, we could discuss serious matters between ourselves as adults should, TEYRNA COUSLAND.” The dwarf says last two words with emphasis. “I believe you prefer this title to that of the Grey Warden.”

Elissa raises a brow, but choses to remain silent.

“That old bugger Duncan forced you into warden business, didn’t he?” Seeing the girl in front of him making no attempt to respond, Bhelen shakes his head. “I guess as much. You would be a fool to join them under any circumstance. And a madwoman to do so, after your family got wiped out. But you don’t strike me as either foolish or mad, so you must join unwillingly.”

“I hope you don’t retain me only to gloat, YOUR HIGHNESS.” The honey-haired girl says last two words with equal emphasis.

“Not for long if Harrowmont had his way.” Bhelen says ruefully, but quickly recompose himself. “Look, I am not only good at demanding. I could be a provider, too. You can’t take back your castle with your bare hands, or any ragtag militia still loyal to you, or with a bunch of misfits, no matter how powerful they might be. I could loan you money, so you could recruit and equip mercenaries from the casteless. Even persuade some legionaries to fight for you. Loghain could boast how he hammered Orlesians in River Dane, but We in Orzammar know it’s Nalthur and his men who broke those fops. Fifty legionaries are all difference between a glorious new era and a shining halo, or persistent ignominy and rotting on some unknown riverbank. You could have more.”

“Thank you, Your Highness, you are too kind.” Elissa restrains herself not to add “with your words.” Tempting as his offer seems, it’s Cailan all over again. If only you win, if only I survive your victory, and then if only you still remember the promise made before you win. A lot of “if”.

“Want some wine? Orlesian vintage, imported from Montsimmard, not those nugpiss they serve in taverns here.” The dwarven prince moved to retrieve two wineglasses from dine shelf. “Or perhaps Antivan port, if you prefer.” 

Why he must mention Antiva… Oriana used to drink with her sometimes. None of them takes alcohol very well, though Elissa was even worse than her sister-in-law. A small cup of port was enough to render her dizzy and blabbering. Oriana liked to tease her on such occasions, and Elissa liked to be petted. Once we were content.

When she opens her eyes again, she sees Bhelen holding a bottle of Montsimmard Red. “I understand there is an accord to stipulate that if Theirin line ever became extinct, the crown of Ferelden should be transferred to House Cousland. Not that your house is currently at a strong position, but an agreement is an agreement.” The dwarf says matter of factly.

“If Your Highness doesn’t mind, I like to point out Theirin line is not extinct, yet.” Elissa tries to maintain her composure. She is unsure she likes where this conversation is leading into.

“That could be arranged. Free of charge. Or I could make some potion available. Tasteless and odorless, if you would rather do that yourself. Deep Road is a place full of unexpected hazards and unexplained accidents.” Bhelen speaks with the same tone as he offered her drinking only a minute before, then proceeds to pour her glass.

Elissa raise a hand, signals the dwarf to shut up. With another shaking hand, she picks up the filled cup, taking a hearty mouthful. 

He chuckles. “Interesting. When I saw you and that redhaired girl kiss him with such passion after you win the Proving, I believed it’s a masterful attempt to win the crowd’s favor. Now it seems the affection is genuine, perhaps that only makes your show even more convincing.” 

“I am not like what you think.” She says defiantly, this time without his title.

“No? We are not so different, you and I…” Bhelen obviously enjoys her uneasiness, the smile never fades from his face. He moves even nearer to her. She could feel his breath.

“I am nothing like you. You disgust me.” Elissa angrily bursts out before she could stop. It also takes a lot of her willpower not to stand and storm off, or to spite on his stupid self-satisfied face. The prince, however, doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Are we not? We are both ten times our brothers could ever be, our only crime is happening to be born several years later.” The dwarf waves off her protest dismissively. “I heard your father deprived your brother of his hereditary right because he married the wrong woman. But he didn’t proclaim you as his heir publicly. I wonder if he would change his idea, should he know your brother successfully led Highever Army to its doom.” 

Ostagar. Fergus had nothing to do with that disaster. He was already dead before the battle ever began, tricked into a suicidal scout mission by Loghain. The army was still lost despite she successfully defied Loghain’s wish to deploy them in the valley with Cailan and Duncan. But many had escaped. If her brother survived, he would have obeyed Loghain’s command without question. In a way, his death saved a lot of lives.

“You know a lot about Fereldan politic and my family, Prince Bhelen.” She says between clenched teeth. 

“People in my position doesn’t survive in Orzammar very long by remaining deaf and blind.” He seems quite amused by her stubbornness. “And I have a copy of Arl Guerrin’s proclamation for your pet. Everything is about him. Your name is nowhere to be found. It’s you saved Redcliffe and that ungrateful old fool, it’s you captured Jarvia. I bet without you, his precious majesty couldn’t even find the gate of Orzammar.” 

Before Eamon was awaken, Teagan once suggested Elissa herself claim the crown, should Alistair prove intransigent. After the arl was revived, he would have none of it. Theirin is Ferelden. Period. She secretly hoped he would put her name together with Alistair, but clearly he never bothered.

“If you do have some feeling for Maric’s bastard and don’t want him to vanish, you could still rule as his queen, whether Guerrin like it or not.” Now Bhelen’s tone is in all seriousness, there is no longer tease or sneer.

“I…I fear that. I fear to be bound to the position and lose my freedom.” She stutters, it surprises her that she would tell her deepest concern so freely to this swindler of a prince.

“Nonsense. We, I and you, never have that sort of freedom. I once had the same idea like you, until I was fed up with contempt and disdain my older brothers and people like Harrowmont showed me. People like you and I have only freedom to choose either standing over all others, or be trampled by every last duster around us.” He strokes her hair almost absentmindedly, cups her face with both hands, gently makes her look up to his face. She doesn’t resist. “Tell me, beautiful lady, do you really believe you are only worthy of dealing with darkspawns all your life, dying young in some filthy, muddy pit among their rotten corpses, allowing those lowborn mongrels to enjoy everything you earned in your all too short life? The usurper Loghain must believe so. That is the fate prepared by Loghains and Harrowmonts of this world, for likes of you and me. If we submissively let the world bully and rob us at will, no Daces, no Helmis and no Guerrins would ever raise a finger to help us.”

“I would consider your words carefully, Your Highness.” Elissa says with a voice barely audible, she tries to stand, but feels lightheaded, suddenly unable to find her bearing.

Bhelen helpfully provides his own arm as support, gracefully walks her to the door. “That’s my girl. But maybe I burden you with too much, too soon. My apologies then, Teyrna Cousland. Give yourself several days of good rest. You still have a wayward Paragon to chase.”

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This happens after Cousland and Alistair finished Bhelen's first task, captured Jarvia for him, and won the Proving. Several days before they leave to chase Branka.
> 
> They have been in a sort of rivalmance, since the girl never hides her hostility toward GW in general and Duncan in particular. Still, they have genuine feeling for each other.


End file.
